


Silent Night

by mountain_born



Series: The Marvelous Tale of an Agent, an Archer, and an Assassin [30]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Doctor Who/Avengers Crossover Fusion, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 21:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4537845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountain_born/pseuds/mountain_born
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas Eve night, and certain members of SHIELD are being haunted by some very strange spirits indeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Night

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, thanks and kudos ad infinitum go to my beta **like-a-raven**! 
> 
> A lot of Phase 2 has been given over to setting up the MCU as we build up to the _Marvelous Tale_ spin on the _Avengers_ , but there are certain DW threats lurking in the shadows that I wanted to take some time to play with. Plus, I enjoyed the challenge of making Christmas creepy.
> 
> And, as always, a bit of a twist.
> 
> Happy reading, everyone!

_December 24, 2011_

Christmas. Even by human standards it was a strange sort of holiday.

Over the centuries, it had attracted cultural trappings like a gravity well attracted space debris, but at its heart it was nothing more than an acknowledgement of celestial timekeeping. Christmas was just another variation on a celebration of the winter solstice, which in the planet’s northern hemisphere, marked the longest, darkest night of the year. 

It was somehow appropriate that Mr. Dickens had spun his tale of ghostly visitations around this holiday. What better night for spirits to be abroad?

The Silent Ones were not ghosts or spirits, for all that they walked the Earth unseen and unremembered. They also had no particular interest in or attachment to Christmas, unlike many of the human members of the Cult of the Silence and the Academy of the Question. (Even the ones who had never set foot on Earth in their lives were apt to celebrate with crackers, crowns, and flaming pudding.) 

For the Silent Ones, it was simply another night and they had work to do, visitations to make. 

There were four important charges in particular that they were due to look in on. Christmas Eve was as good a night as any.

**New York**   
**SHIELD Headquarters**

Melody Pond had been just a tiny child when she’d first been introduced to the Silent Ones.

Madame Kovarian had conducted that lesson personally while the little girl’s guardians had kept a respectful distance, standing by the kitchen hearth in that small, drafty castle by the sea.

_“The Silent Ones are our spies,” Madame Kovarian said. The leader of the Academy was kneeling on the worn stone floor beside the child, one arm wrapped around her. “Do you know what that means, Melody?”_

_“Yes, Madame Kovarian,” Melody replied. She had been staring at the Silent One with wide eyes and a touch of fear. For all her potential and destiny, she wasn’t quite the brave warrior yet._

_“No, don’t look away,” Madame Kovarian said sternly when Melody’s gaze began to falter. Melody obediently went back to staring at the Silent One._

_“It’s an amazing sight, isn’t it?” Madame Kovarian said, smiling fondly at the Silent One. “And yet, the thing that makes them such good spies is that no one ever remembers them. The moment you can’t see them, Melody, you forget ever having seen them. Quite literally out of sight, out of mind. You forget that they even exist until the next time you see them. Unless, of course, you’re properly equipped.”_

_Madame Kovarian touched a finger to the black patch that she wore over her left eye._

_“This ensures that I never forget them,” Madame Kovarian said. “You’ll forget, Melody, but you’ll know them when you see them again.”_

The Silent Ones didn’t have a hive mind, exactly, but their memory was a collective pool. The Silent One who watched now was not the same one who had stood in that kitchen in Scotland over seventy years ago, but it remembered the night well. It remembered the little girl who carried their hopes of a universe free from the tyranny of the Doctor.

Just look at her now.

The Silent One stood in the shadows on the edges of the SHEILD gymnasium. The hour was growing late, and even agents who didn’t hold this night sacred were taking a small respite from training. The cavernous room was almost entirely empty and dark save for one training area where Melody Pond and Maria Hill were sparring.

Melody ducked under Maria’s fist and flipped away from a kick with well-practiced ease. She had grown into a graceful and formidable fighter, just as the Academy had wished. The journey had not been without complications. Melody’s decision to defect from the Academy and flout her responsibility had been an unforeseen turn of events. Still, it was nothing that couldn’t be sorted out in time. The Academy was willing to be patient, to wait for the right time to come out of the shadows and into the light.

In the meantime, the Silent Ones continued to watch over Melody as they had always done, not as a constant presence, but as a routine one.

They had to exercise caution these days, though. When Melody had gone on the run, she hadn’t been keen on being followed. She’d killed four of them before they’d learned to keep a bit of distance. That was why the Silent One watched from afar tonight.

Melody caught Maria by the arm and flipped her over her shoulder. The other woman hit the mat with a groan followed by rueful laughter.

“Are you all right?” Melody asked, reaching down to help her back up again.

“Santa’s going to have to bring me a heating pad tonight,” Maria said, climbing back to her feet and carefully rotating her shoulder. “I think I’m done.”

“It’s late and we’re both on duty tomorrow,” Melody said. She brushed a few strands of sweaty hair behind one ear. “I should probably call it a night, too. Thanks for the match.”

The two women starting to drift toward the sideline where they’d left their belongings.

“Any time,” Maria said. “And by _any time_ I mean not for at least a week.” 

Melody just chuckled. “When do you leave on your holiday?” she asked, shrugging on her jacket.

“On Tuesday, once Coulson’s back.”

The Silent One watched with mild interest as Melody and Maria chatted while preparing to venture out into the wintry night. They weren’t exactly friends, these two, but over time they had grown to be friendly toward one another. The Silent One knew, through the memories of his fellows, that it had been a slow progression.

Silent Ones were, as their name suggested, good at being overlooked, even setting aside the peculiar fact of their biology that made them forgettable. However, humans such as the ones who worked for SHIELD were quicker to notice things than most. As Maria pulled on her winter hat and picked up her keys, something made her gaze drift over to the dark corner by the doors where the Silent One had been standing watch. Her eyes went extraordinarily wide.

“River! _LOOK!”_

*****

River stood in the corridor outside of the gymnasium, blinking in confusion.

Her heart was racing like she’d just run a sprint and there was an odd, seasick feeling in her stomach. Of course, she’d just been sparring with Hill. That must account for it the rapid pulse, River thought. And she hadn’t had much dinner, either. That was probably why she felt a little ill. She’d have to make herself some tea and toast before she went to bed.

“Sorry,” she said to Hill who was standing beside her in the corridor. “What were you saying about your holiday plans?”

“Just that I’m flying out on Tuesday,” Hill said. “I’m going to hang out with my family for a few days and then head on to the slopes. I have a friend with a house out in Aspen.”

“Sounds brilliant,” River said. Something was worrying at her mind, but she couldn’t for the life of her seem to bring it into focus. River mentally shrugged and set it aside. If she couldn’t even remember what was bothering her, it couldn’t be all that important. “So, see you bright and early tomorrow?”

With Fury and Coulson both off, Hill and River were minding the store on Christmas Day.

“Yeah,” Hill said. “It should be a quiet day.” 

“We can’t have too many of those,” River said. Especially since Clint was due to come home on leave in three days. She’d be quite glad if things remained calm for a while. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

**New Mexico**   
**Tesseract Research Facility**

The man’s name was Clint Barton, and he was very important to Melody Pond.

He had been a part of her life for six years, and his place in it had grown several times over since they’d first met. First he’d been her rescuer, then he’d been her friend, then her lover, then her beloved. What was important to Melody Pond was of interest to the Silence and the Academy, so the Silent Ones kept watch over Clint as well.

He had worked deep underground in the laboratory all day, guarding the Tesseract and the scientists who were trying to unlock its secrets. He didn’t care for the work, the Silent One knew. In particular he didn’t care for Eric Selvig, who often needled him about what the scientist erroneously presumed was a lack of intelligence. 

Clint had come straight to the surface and gone outside once his shift was done, though it was dark and cold enough that his breath clouded in front of him. The Silent One had followed him to a remote part of the facility, near the south perimeter fence. Clint had found a perch on the hood of a SHIELD truck. He appeared to be comfortably situated, back against the wind shield, legs stretched out in front of him. He was looking up at the stars.

Perhaps he was thinking about home, where he’d be in three days time. Perhaps he was thinking about Melody. Perhaps he was thinking about the ring that was securely tucked away in an inner pocket of his quiver, that he was going to give her upon his return. 

The Silent Ones knew that the ring and its accompanying proposal would not come as a surprise to Melody. She and Clint had discussed their future at great length and had agreed that they wanted to spend it together. They were both traditional enough, though, that the formalities had been left in Clint’s hands. 

It was strange to the Silent Ones that Melody Pond had fallen so deeply in love. She had been raised to a life of duty, indoctrinated from the cradle. Duty tended to eclipse more selfish emotions, and so it had with Melody for many, many years. Yet at the same time it was not at all strange that this was the man she’d chosen, at least according to Madame Kovarian.

_Like mother, like daughter,_ Kovarian had said. The Pond women did seem to favor men who were remarkably loyal and steadfast. It was a quality that Hawkeye and the Last Centurion had in common.

Someday, Melody’s attachment might work to the Academy’s advantage. For now, it was simply a curiosity, much like the man himself. He favored and had mastered a weapon that, even by human standards, was archaic. He killed for a living and yet had a kind heart. He was utterly ordinary, yet had no trouble accepting the extraordinary.

He was deaf, but possessed of exceptionally sharp hearing.

As the Silent One watched, Clint suddenly sat upright, slowly scanning the darkness around him. After a moment, he quietly slid off of the hood of the truck and pulled his side arm. There were lights set at intervals along the fence, brightly illuminating their surroundings, but casting the areas out of their reach into deep shadow.

The Silent One waited in the darkness, curious to see if Hawkeye’s keen sight would once again live up to its reputation. It wasn’t disappointed.

“Hold it right there,” Clint said, weapon leveled at the Silent One. The man’s eyes were narrowed with hostile recognition. “Big mistake showing your face here, Egg Head.”

*****

“God _damn!”_

Clint clamped his hand over his left ear, his eyes squinting shut involuntarily and his head ducking in pain as his hearing aid emitted a needle-fine, high-pitched sonic pulse. Clint could feel the vibration in his teeth.

Thankfully, it was a short-lived pulse. Clint straightened back up again with a disgusted sound, trying not to let his eyes water. _Shit,_ that had hurt. This was a new pair of hearing aids, too. Something must have gotten screwed up in the calibration process.

They seemed to be working fine now, though. Clint could clearly hear the footsteps of multiple people jogging up behind him.

“Agent Barton? Sir?”

Clint turned to see an entire security squad, weapons drawn, warily eyeing the surrounding area. He raised one hand to shield his eyes from the flashlight glare.

“The hell?”

Agent Falco was at the head of the squad, and she was giving Clint a really weird look. “Sir, you called in a Code Blue. You told us to get right over here.”

“I. . .”

He had?

Clint had no reason to doubt Falco, but he had no memory of doing any such thing. _Code Blue_ meant that an intruder had breached the perimeter. There was clearly no one here but Clint and Falco’s team. Clint looked down at his hand. He also had no memory of why he had drawn his side arm.

He looked back at a random, shadowed section of fence. There was nothing there. Had there been something? Clint felt like he was trying to recall an unsettling dream, the details of which were slipping away. 

He felt like there had been something important. Something to do with River. That didn’t make any sense, though. River was in New York, thousands of miles away.

Falco was eyeing him, clearly waiting for an explanation. The only problem was that Clint didn’t have a ready one. He had to settle for covering.

“Sorry guys,” he said, holstering his weapon. “False alarm. There’s nothing here.”

The shadows out here could play tricks. Clint was sure that was all it was.

**Pittsburgh**   
**St. David’s Lutheran Church**

Phil Coulson was also important to Melody Pond, though not in the same way as Clint Barton. He was her friend, one who had quickly won her trust, all things considered. He had become family to her. The Silent Ones knew that there were even times she looked to this man as a father, though he was easily young enough to be her son.

Unlike Melody and Clint, Phil Coulson had a large blood family. He had no siblings and his parents were dead, but he had aunts and uncles and a multitude of cousins, many of whom had families of their own now. Most of them had remained here in the same set of Pittsburgh neighborhoods where they had all grown up. 

It was evident that Phil loved his family, but he had become something of an outsider among them. Occasions like this, the St. David’s Christmas Eve program, brought that out in sharp relief. He had come with his Aunt Alice, dutifully sat through the service, and clapped for his cousins’ children who briefly took over the stage sporting robes, tinsel halos, and lopsided wings. Now that it was over and everyone else was gathered in the large hall, talking and laughing over cookies and coffee, he was keeping to the edges of things.

“Phillip? Phillip Coulson? Is that you?”

The Silent One observed as an old man with grey whiskers made his slow way over to Phil. Phil shifted his cup of coffee to his left hand, so he could accept the man’s handshake with his right. 

“You probably don’t remember me. Jack Gordon. I lived down the street from your parents.”

“Mr. Gordon. Of course I remember you,” Phil said. Whether or not he was lying was both impossible to discern and neither here-nor-there.

“It’s been years, boy. Where have you been keeping yourself?”

Mr. Gordon had all sorts of questions. The type of questions that older people habitually pressed upon younger people, particularly younger people they remembered as children: questions about his home, his work, his wife, his family. They were the sort of questions that the Silent Ones knew Phil disliked and had no good answers for. His work was largely secret. SHIELD headquarters was more his home than his apartment was. His children were his agents. As for a wife? Well, there was the woman in Arlington, Valerie. Phil had loved her for a very long time, but felt unworthy of being a permanent part of her life, and so he carefully limited her place in his.

Humans. They were such a strange species.

Phil gracefully deflected most of the questions and extracted himself from the conversation as soon as decent manners allowed. The Silent One followed as he made his way to a quieter part of the church. 

The wing of offices was deserted. Phil strolled along the corridor sipping his coffee and reading various flyers and notices on the bulletin boards. The Silent One watched him from the darkened open doorway of a meeting room. The man looked markedly more at ease alone here than he had amidst the social bustle and holiday good cheer in the hall.

That bustle and cheer represented what most human beings considered “normal”: growing up, finding acceptable jobs, marrying, settling down, producing children. Phil Coulson had left that normality behind a very long time ago, and left it gladly. It made sense that he looked more comfortable removed from it.

Phil Coulson was a spy, and one who knew he was being watched at that. Some human instinct, no doubt left over from the time this species was little more than a prey animal, caused Phil to look up, directly at the Silent One’s doorway.

The cup of coffee fell to the floor as the agent reached for a gun that he wasn’t carrying.

*****

“Stop right there!”

Coulson stared down at the small angel whose arm he’d grabbed. She was all cock-eyed halo and glittery wings and great big eyes. The girl looked terrifyingly like she might burst into tears.

“I just need to go to the bathroom,” she said in a small voice.

“I. . .” Coulson dropped the kid’s arm like a hot potato. 

What the hell was he doing? He’d been walking along and then. . .what? Something had caused his adrenaline to spike. He could feel it coursing through his bloodstream. Then he’d heard small, running feet approaching and knew he had to stop them before they ran headlong into something bad.

But what? For some reason, Coulson’s eyes drifted to the open doorway of the nearby meeting room. There was nothing there.

“Don’t run in the church, okay?” Coulson said lamely to the kid. “You could get hurt.”

She nodded quickly, edged away from him, and scuttled on down the hall to the ladies room. Coulson shook his head.

Maybe Aunt Alice was right. He needed to try to take more time away from the job.

**New York**   
**Nick Fury’s Apartment**

Nick Fury was also an important part of Melody Pond’s life. As the Director of SHIELD, he was her commanding officer. He was the man who had sent Clint Barton to take her life. He was also the man who had allowed Clint and Phil to spare her, over some strident objections by the World Security Council. He had taken Melody in and made her a part of SHIELD. 

With that decision, Nick had given Melody something that she had lacked for a very long time: a home.

His actions had piqued the Silence’s interest. Besides that, the Director of SHIELD was just a good person to keep an intermittent eye on.

Nick all but lived on the SHIELD base, just outside of the city. But on this night, Christmas Eve, he was at home. The official residence of the Director of SHIELD was on the top floor of an unassuming office building in Manhattan. The entire building was, in fact, owned by SHIELD. The organization had started out here in the late 1940s with offices on three floors. SHIELD had steadily bought up the building as leases expired, taking it over in its entirety by the ‘50s. It was self-contained and extremely secure, from the underground vaults to the front businesses on the ground floor to the Director’s penthouse to the helipad on the roof.

Tonight the Silent One watched as Nick Fury tidied his kitchen.

In a way, Nick was the mirror-opposite of the Silent Ones. As the Director of SHIELD he kept a low public profile, but he did it by being very memorable. He was a big man with a deep voice and an imposing manner. He was a sweeping black coat and combat boots. He was a scarred face and black eye patch. He put on a show so that once he was out of sight, people remembered the show instead of the man.

It was an intriguing strategy: hiding in plain sight.

Here in the relative privacy of his apartment, there was no show. So far as Nick knew, there was no one watching to put on a show for. The Silent One watched him as he put his kitchen to rights. He muttered scraps of songs (mostly Christmas carols) as he worked, scrubbing out pots and loading the dishwasher. He put away the leftover roast chicken and vegetables that he had cooked earlier that evening. The Silent One wondered if many of SHIELD’s agents knew that their director knew his way around an oven. 

Nick moved about quietly. He was being careful, the Silent One knew, not to disturb his house guest. Meg Downing had retired to her room shortly after dinner, tired from the journey down from Toronto. SHIELD’s former director was quite old, especially by human standards, but she still liked to keep her hand in the game, offering her successor advice and counsel. Or, in this instance, just a friendly visit for the holidays.

That sort of thing was rather a luxury for people like Nick and Meg.

Nick finished wiping down the counter and, for the first time since he’d started cleaning up, looked toward the main living area.

His one good eye locked on the Silent One for a split second before Nick disappeared and Fury took his place. He turned and lunged for the butcher’s block of knives, his arm catching a glass and sending it crashing to the floor.

*****

Fury frowned at the knife in his hand and the mess of broken glass in the floor. He carefully laid the former back on the counter and knelt down in the floor to start cleaning up the latter.

He worked slowly. Broken glass and haste didn’t mix well.

Besides, he wanted to give the intruder in his living room plenty of time to quietly withdraw, secure in the erroneous knowledge that it was out of sight and out of mind. The alien’s movements were soft, but Fury knew how to listen for them by now. 

After a few seconds, the Silent One retreated.

Fury idly touched a finger to the black patch that covered his left eye.

_I see you, motherfuckers,_ he thought. _Don’t think for a second that I don’t._


End file.
